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Analogies and simulations
Some things are very difficult to understand if you have never experienced them. For those who have experienced them, they can be very difficult to explain. Analogies can help explain complex things. Tics Confusion *What do tics feel like? *If tics are involuntary, how come you can stop doing them? Blinking Analogy Trying not to tic is almost exactly like trying not to blink, but with embarassment added to it. Simulation Keep you eyes open and try not to blink. You will notice that this requires concentration. Start thinking about something else, and you will start blinking again. The longer you stop yourself from blinking, the more difficult it it to keep your eyes open. Is a feeling of tension building up? Are you having to hold them open very wide? Are you feeling tension round them? When you feel you can no longer prevent yourself from blinking or if you start blinking automatically, allow youself to blink freely. You will most likely blink a lot more than you did before you tried not to blink, and then they calm down again. Now try it again, but this time try to imagine what it would feel like if you had to try and hide them from people because it was seen as rude or embarassing to blink. Conclusion *Tics are automatic, not strictly involunary. *They can be stopped, but this requires concentration, energy and causes a build-up of tension. *Allowing them to start again causes more tics for a while. As a general rule, the longer they are suppressed for, the worse they will be when 'let out'. *People can hide tics in front of others and let them out when they are alone. This leads people to believe that the person is making up their tics or making a fuss about nothing if they have not seen the tics themselves, especially if the person is good at hiding them. Internal itch Analogy Tics can be described as an 'internal itch' that needs to be scratched. That is not to say the person experiences an itching sensation inside, but they can feel an irresistible need to move in order to get rid of this feeling. The feeling may be described as: *an internal itch *internal tension *a horrible/funny feeling This feeling is known as a sensory tic. Simulation Imagine being covered in fleas and not being able to scratch yourself. Rage Confusion *What does it feel like? *Does the person have control? *Does the person feel remorse? Description Here is a description of rage by a teenage girl with Tourette's syndrome and social, organisational and attention problems. She experienced the rage attacks during childhood and occasionally still experiences milder versions of it. One tiny comment - 'no'. My whole pattern of thought and what I expected to happen and what I had prepared for had changed. It had all shifted. I'm going downhill when I thought I was going to go up. My brakes don't work properly. Deep within me, I hear the motor growl and rev. Deep within me, something wells up. Something evil. I hate the feeling. I detest it, I dread it. It's all too familiar but I have no brakes. I know nothing is going to stop me...until I reach the bottom...and I pray nothing will be on the road on the way down - down the long, steep slope. Deep within, there's sheer power and momentum curling, swirling, growing, shuddering to the surface. I stand and feel the great tidal wave grow and grow, its mighty power cascading along. I wish it back, but I know that no one can force back a wave. The sheer power and momentum surges through my muscles. I tense them - my whole body rigid in fierce anger. I must control it. I do my best. I hit the wall. Again. Again. Get rid of this feeling. I hate everything. Why do I have to feel like this? Someone is shouting at me to stop. I can't stop - this wave must run its course. I must reach the bottom of this hill. Again, another surge through very particle in my body. I screw up my face and clench my teeth. Go away, go away. Again, my entire body tenses up with the power, the force - again, rigid with anger - my whole body, like one clenched fist. I thrash around and hit and hit the wall. I hit the door. I bite my quilt. I let the force out through my teeth. Tears well up in my eyes. The wave has nearly reached the shore and I wait as it rushes up the beach, water swirling. My eyes stinging. I hate myself. I hate myself for all that, for going out of control and for hurting and embarrassing those who watched me. I don't want to talk. Until next time, I'm sorry.